Dear Friends,

This week, as we are preparing to celebrate Mother’s Day, I find myself reflecting on motherhood in a new and deeply personal way. My daughter, Kate, recently became a mother for the first time, and when I witnessed her holding her child during my trip to New Hampshire in Easter week, it stirred something profound in me. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that her mother held her, was it? And yet here was Kate with a baby of her own.

Although Mother’s Day doesn’t appear anywhere on the Episcopal Church’s calendar, it has always been a time to honor the women who nurtured us, prayed over us, and showed us what it means to love unconditionally. It’s a day to celebrate not only the mothers who reared us, but also the spiritual mothers in this church, and every church family – those who have mentored, encouraged, and guided with wisdom and grace.

But this year, it also feels like a circle has come full. Watching my daughter step into this space has given me so much joy. At the same time, I know that motherhood is not only about biology. Many women—whether or not they have children of their own—offer tender care, spend sleepless nights, and make quiet sacrifices for others with great devotion. As they do, they reflect God’s nurturing heart.

So, I am glad that, over time, we’ve taken steps to expand the language we use when we talk about God.

A version of the Lord’s Prayer in A New Zealand Prayer Book begins “Eternal Spirit, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver, Source of all that is and that shall be, Father and Mother of us all, Loving God, in whom is heaven….”

Jesus loved the maternal image of God as a mother hen. When Jesus lamented that people had turned away from him, he said he longed to gather them together as “a hen gathers chicks under her wings” (Matthew 23:37).

And one of the canticles offered in the Morning Prayer service in the Episcopal Church’s Enriching Our Worship comes from Dame Julian of Norwich (c. 1343–1416). Its title is “The Song of True Motherhood,” and in it, Dame Julian speaks of God and Jesus in maternal terms:

God chose to be our mother in all things*

and so made the foundation of his work,

most humbly and most pure, in the Virgin’s womb.

God, the perfect wisdom of all,*

arrayed himself in this humble place.

Christ came in our poor flesh*

to share a mother’s care.

Our mothers bear us for pain and for death;*

our true mother, Jesus, bears us for joy and endless life.

Christ carried us within him in love and travail,*

until the full time of his passion.

And when all was completed and he had carried us so for joy,*

still all this could not satisfy the power of his wonderful love.

All that we owe is redeemed in truly loving God,*

for the love of Christ works in us;

Christ is the one whom we love.

As a parish community, I hope we can pause this Sunday to give thanks for every mother and mother figure among us. Let us pray for new moms finding their way, for single mothers carrying extra burdens, for grandmothers offering seasoned wisdom, and for those who grieve on this day. Each carries a unique story, yet all are woven together by God’s perfect love.

To all the mothers – biological, adoptive, spiritual, and those waiting in hope – you are deeply cherished. You embody the kind of love that shapes lives and reflects the very heart of God.

Blessings,

Stephen Applegate